Unauthorized Surveilance
by plastic-chan
Summary: Hermione must tutor Draco and they become friends in the process. Then they make a friendly little wager...about the sexual orientation of the Boy Who Lived. Light mm references, RonHermione references.
1. Chapter 1

This was written as a Christmas present for Elyse in 2002. Harry Potter and all related things are not mine. This story contains some m/m references but nothing vivid or squicky. There's a bit of mild language as well. At one point I had planned a sequel to it, but I was going in too many directions with it and the story became unfocused, so this is a stand-alone piece. Maybe someday I will start working on the sequel again. Please give me feedback! I love to know what people think of my work.

**Unauthorized Surveillance**

The library smelled of old books and dust. Though, if one really thinks about it, the two smells are nearly indistinguishable anyway, so perhaps to say that it smelled of both is redundant. But this isn't about a library. It is about what started in the library, and what came of it later.

Though truthfully, it didn't _really_ start in the library. It started in Potions class. Professor Snape had requested one day for Hermione and Draco to stay after for a moment. The children were all confused. Why would Snape want to see those two? Normally he only called on Gryffindor students to stay after, and Hermione was never asked to stay without Ron and Harry. And as for Draco, he had _never_ been asked to stay. Draco was a Slytherin, after all, and therefore above reproach, at least in Snape's class. Apparently things were changing.

As the students filed out of the room after class, Harry and Ron cast curious glances back at Hermione. Why would she have to stay after with Draco? It made no sense. Later, when she filled them in, it made even less sense.

"He wants me to tutor Draco."

"What?!" Harry and Ron exclaimed in unison.

"Apparently Draco isn't doing so well in Potions, and failing is not an option, so he has to be tutored. I have the highest grade, so Snape suggested I do it."

"Are you going to?" Harry wondered.

"Well, it's not like I really have a choice, Harry. Besides, it'll promote unity. Draco and his lackeys won't pick on us so much anymore, at least for the time being. Draco _needs_ me, and he won't jeopardize this. His father would kill him."

"Probably literally," muttered Ron.

"Besides," Hermione grinned evilly, "doing this means defeat for Draco in three ways. One, he's not the best at something and this time Daddy's influence won't help him. Two, he needs help from a Gryffindor, which we know will kill him. And thirdly, he has to spend time with a 'mudblood.' He probably peed his pants when Snape told him I was to tutor him. I bet he's afraid he'll get infected."

Ron snorted. "It'd be more likely that you'd catch something from him."

"I don't think being an asshole is contagious, Ron," said Harry, laughing.

Hermione laughed. "I would certainly hope not! _I'm_ the one who has to spend time with him!"

So a fateful day in Potions leads us to a fateful day in the library. Hermione and Draco were sitting together at a small table in a secluded area meant for quiet studying. Draco's main trouble seemed to be telling the difference between certain common ingredients. This, of course, would result in him making some extremely strange concoctions (not to say that the potions he was attempting to make weren't strange to begin with…).

"Well, I guess we should start with the basics," Hermione offered, attempting to make kind conversation. Draco sneered but grudgingly agreed to get working.

"Whatever. The sooner we do this, the sooner I don't have to spend any more time with you."

Hermione managed not to hit him. "It's not exactly what _I'd_ like to do with my time, either, but this is how it is, so suck it up and take it like a man, you little ferret."

"Bitch."

Hermione laughed derisively. "Two points for originality, Malfoy."

"Fuck you."

She clapped sarcastically. "Bravo. You are truly the master of witty repartee." They glared at each other for a minute. Finally, Hermione, always practical, sighed. "Look, I know you hate me, and Lord knows I'm not too particularly fond of you, but to paraphrase you, the sooner we do this, the sooner we don't have to spend time together anymore. So let's just get this over with. I tutor you, you raise your grade, and then we can ignore each other. Until that time, I suggest we call a truce. Fighting will only interfere with your studies. So shall we call it pax for now?" Draco nodded sullenly. "Great. Now then, why don't you go get _Potions for Beginners_?"

"Beginners? I'm a third year!!!"

"A third year who is failing the Potions course for third years. We start small and figure out what you know and what you don't know. It's pointless for me to tutor you on what you know already, but I have to see how well you know the subject."

"Fine." Draco got up to get it. Hermione noted with satisfaction that he was heading in the right direction. Harry and Ron were always quite clue-less about where to look for the books they needed, and after helping them through two years of book locating, she was quite tired of people who couldn't understand the library system.

Draco, however, didn't know anything about the library system. It was simply a lucky guess. However, he soon began searching through the wrong aisles, tracking further and further away from the book he intended to find. And of course, he was too proud to go tell Hermione he couldn't find it, so he had to keep looking. And lo and behold, whom should he discover looking through a book but Harry Potter himself! Draco grinned. Now would be a perfect time to sneak up on him and give him a fright. Draco was about to pounce when Harry suddenly looked up. Draco, not wanting his surprise to be ruined, quickly ducked behind the corner and waited. He heard Harry slide the book back onto the shelf and then walk out the other side of the aisle. Draco shrugged. He could scare Harry some other time. Besides, he needed to find that book.

'Speaking of books…' Draco thought, 'I wonder what Potter was looking at so intently.' Draco entered the aisle and started looking for the heavy volume he had seen Harry holding. 'It had a maroon cover… And gold lettering on the binding… Ah! Here it is!' Draco pulled it from the shelf, unable to read the writing on the side of the book. It was an old book, and the lettering appeared to have been mostly worn off by a lot of handling. 'It must be a popular book, to be so worn…' He looked at the cover, but the title wasn't written there. "Odd," he whispered. "I can understand the title being worn off the side, but how is it _not_ on the cover? I've never seen a book with a blank cover."

Draco opened to the title page. The font was indecipherable. "Is this even written in English?" he muttered. He turned the page and dropped the book. Not only was the title written in readable script, it was something he'd never expected, and there was an accompanying illustration. Draco picked up the book and looked again, to make sure he hadn't been seeing things. "My God…" he whispered. "Harry was reading _this_?" He quickly put the book away, to be sure he wouldn't be caught with it, and rushed back to Hermione.

She was waiting at the table, _Potions for Beginners_ in her hand. "Find something more interesting than passing Potions? You were in entirely the wrong section!"

"Yes!" he whispered excitedly.

"What?"

"Yes, I found something more interesting. You won't believe the book I saw Potter reading!!!"

Hermione laughed. "Harry, voluntarily reading? You're out of your mind. If he has free time, he's playing Quidditch or thwarting evil. Harry hasn't _time_ to read."

"Well then he was looking at the pictures! And let me tell you, he was getting an eyeful!" Hermione gave him a blank stare. Draco grabbed her arm and took her back to the section he'd been in. "He was reading _this_!" Draco proclaimed, handing her the book.

"And this is exciting because…?"

Draco opened the book to the page he'd seen before dropping it. Hermione's eyes grew exponentially. She blinked and cleared her throat. "_Majick and Homosexuality: History's Secret Pair_." She looked at Draco. "Harry was reading this?"

"He looked about halfway through, actually." Hermione opened the book to about the halfway point. She made a funny squeaking noise. "What?" Draco asked, curious. Hermione squeaked again and pointed to the chapter title. Draco read it aloud. "Spells for Preparation and Flexibility." Hermione, morbidly curious, turned the page. She squeaked yet again.

"They've illustrations, too." They looked at each other. "I think we should put this away now."

Draco nodded. "Agreed. …Though it _would_ be fun to hear you squeak again."

Hermione made a face at him and put the book away. "Bite my bum."

Draco grinned evilly. "I'm certain there's a chapter on that, if you'd like me to look it up. Want to be sure I do it properly."

Hermione made another face. "You keep the hell away from my bum. Now come on, we've got to study."

"You want to study?" he asked incredulously. "After we found _this_? How can you _think_ of studying?"

Hermione formed the words slowly, as one might do for a known imbecile. "You… need… to… pass… Potions. You… need… to… study." Draco glared at her. She resumed a normal speed. "Studying is more important than some book you say Harry was reading."

"He _was_ reading it."

"I'm sure. After all, I've never met anyone more faggity than Harry," she said sarcastically.

"You don't believe me," Draco stated.

"Obviously. I don't think Harry's gay. I wouldn't care if he is, but I don't think he is, and this conversation is pointless."

Draco, insisting on continuing the topic, asked, "What makes you so sure he's straight?"

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose it's mostly lack of proof otherwise." Draco pointed to the book. Hermione answered his unspoken question. "No, I _don't_ consider that proof. I never saw him anywhere near it, let alone reading it."

"So my word's not good enough for you, eh?"

"Quite frankly, no. And what makes _you_ so sure he's gay? _Besides_ this book he was 'reading.'"

"Lack of proof otherwise," Draco mocked. "I've never seen him with a girl except you, and whenever he's with you, Ron's there too. And I highly doubt the three of you are together."

Hermione made yet another face. (She had quite a repertoire of them.) "Oh, gross. Harry's like a _brother_ to me. That'd be _sick_."

Draco chuckled. "I notice you didn't say anything about being with Ron."

Hermione flushed red for a second. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalling so you wouldn't have to study for Potions," she stammered, trying to change the topic.

Draco grinned. "All right, fine. We'll study now. But I'm going to prove it to you."

"How? Buy him a sex toy and spy on him?"

"Nothing quite _that_ extreme… But not a bad idea, nonetheless." Draco looked thoughtful.

"I didn't just give you a terrible idea, did I?" Hermione asked, already knowing the answer and dreading it.

"Actually, you gave me a very brilliant idea," he said with a grin.

"I don't like the way you're smiling…"

Draco's grin grew larger as he considered more and more of his plan. "Perfect…" he whispered, having mapped out a basic idea in his mind. "Of course, I'll expect your assistance."

"Why should I help you with your crazy plans?"

"Because if my plan doesn't work, then you're right about him, and you can lord it over me for the rest of our time at Hogwarts."

"Big deal. If I'm right, I'd want a better prize than having your permission to make fun of you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "What then?"

Hermione pondered. "Stop being an ass all the time. And wear a big sign that says, 'I love muggles.'"

He shrugged and nodded. "Done. And when I win, you have to… do all my homework for a month."

"A _month_?"

"What's the matter? Afraid you'll lose?" he grinned cockily.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and thrust out her right hand. "You're on, Malfoy."

"Indeed. I look forward to proving you wrong," he said, grasping her hand and shaking.

"Likewise."

And so, a hasty bargain was forged that day in the library. Draco and Hermione eventually did get the work done, and Draco's grades started to improve drastically as a result of Hermione's help. He was actually a very smart boy, Hermione grudgingly admitted to herself. Draco was also forced to admit that Hermione wasn't too unbearable, even for a 'mudblood' (which, by the way, he refrained from calling her again, unless it was to keep pretense with his friends). Actually, they became almost like friends in their time together, though neither would admit it. Draco's grades improved to the point where he no longer needed a tutor, and could in fact have become a tutor himself should the need arise, but they still kept having their lessons in the library. But as either would hastily inform you if you would ask, it was merely to insure that his grades didn't begin to slip again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Unauthorized Surveillance**

**Chapter 2 **

Time sped by, and soon it was November, about a month after their lessons had first begun. They met in the library at their usual time, at their usual table. Hermione was, of course, early. In the beginning, once Draco had figured out she always arrived early, he had made it a point to be at least ten minutes late for every session. However, when he found out that it didn't bother her to wait (she brought her own homework to work on, and when she finished that, would grab a random book off the shelf and begin reading it, desperate to absorb knowledge), he started showing up on time.

"So what are we studying today, Hermione?" Draco asked, setting his notes on the table and sitting beside Hermione.

"What do you need to work on?" she asked. He shrugged. She nodded. "Nothing. Just what I thought." She sighed. "Draco… you don't need me any longer. You're just fine by yourself."

"But I do need you!" he whispered urgently.

"Why? You've got the second-highest grade in Potions now!"

"But what about our bet?" he asked knowingly.

"The bet? Are you serious?"

"We shook on it, didn't we? And are you going to try to tell me you honestly don't want to know? Give me a little credit, Hermione! I think I know you a bit better than that! You want to know _everything_!"

"Well, yes, but--"

"But nothing!"

"But it's not our business!"

"Then you lose the bet."

"Fine, give me your assignment list. I'll not invade my friend's privacy!" Hermione held out her hand for his list. Draco looked at her outstretched hand, then up at her face. He pushed her hand back toward her, still empty.

"No Hermione. You're right. But when the curiosity starts killing you, you know where to find me."

"He's my _friend_, Malfoy! It was a poor choice to take your bet, and it would be a worse one to follow through."

"Hermione, I'm not suggesting that we betray him or spy on him during 'private time' or something. I've thought about this. There's a way we can find out without embarrassing him or anything. And I swear I'll never tell, regardless of the outcome. I give you my word."

"And how much is your word worth, Draco?" Hermione asked harshly.

"More than yours, I'd venture," he responded in kind. "I keep _my_ promises. We made a bet. We had a deal. We shook on it. Now who is backing out and who is standing by his word?"

Hermione closed her eyes. "…Fine," she whispered bitterly. "I made you a promise, and I will keep it."

"Of course you will," Draco said surprisingly kindly. "I knew you would. You have honor and all that noble crap you Gryffindors are so proud of."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Did you just give me a compliment?"

"I suppose I did," Draco smiled. "Now, I have a plan, and it's going to take a lot of work, but I think it's pretty solid. And if we do it right, we're _bound_ to find out the answer."

"How many rules are we going to break in doing this?"

"Probably less than you, Potter, and Weasley break in a given week."

Hermione chuckled. "Okay, so what's the plan then?"

"I knew you were curious," Draco smirked, jostling her elbow gently to show that he was actually trying for friendly banter, and not trying to make her feel guilty.

She smiled faintly. "Yes, it's one of my less-than-admirable qualities."

Draco grinned. "Well I for one am glad you're curious. I couldn't do all these spells without you." He pulled from his robe a detailed list. "I've found all the spells we'd need, but unfortunately, most of them have to be cast within about ten feet of their targets, which means I can't do them."

"Why?" she asked, looking over the list. "They're not too complicated."

"Yes, but I can't get into the Gryffindor rooms. You, however, have access. Granted, you'll have to sneak a bit, since you're not to be in the boys' rooms…"

"I'm putting a spell on the boys' rooms?"

"Well, just Harry's, really. …Don't you think you could sneak up there?"

Hermione thought about Harry's cloak. 'But how would I get it without him noticing? And he might notice it being gone…' "I honestly don't know."

Draco sighed. "My plan revolves around that point. If you can't get in there, we're screwed."

"…What if we had a third party assist us?" she asked slowly.

"I'll assume you mean to recruit Ron?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded. "Well, he can obviously get into the Gryffindor boys' rooms, and he could cast the spells easily with a bit of practice."

"True enough, but would he be willing to help? With _this_? And if he didn't want to help, would he tell Harry about the plan? They _are_ best friends, after all."

Hermione thought for a minute. "I don't know. And we probably can't afford that risk. …But if he won't help, I think I know who will!"

Draco sat forward, intrigued. "Yeah, who?"

"Let's just say I know a couple of pranksters who would _love_ a reason to burst a water main."

Of course, the pranksters she spoke of were none other than Fred and George Weasley. When Hermione approached them, they were, of course, quite keen on the idea.

"Let me get this straight…" said Fred, grinning at George. "You're going to _pay_ us to 'borrow' Harry's wand, lock him in his room, and then burst a water pipe in his ceiling?"

"Yes. …So you'll do it?" she asked eagerly.

"Hell, we'd do it for free!" George exclaimed.

"Great! Here's a list of the spells and instructions on how to use them." Hermione handed the twins a list (obviously, not the one Draco had given her. There were a few too many details on that list, and besides, Draco's list was obviously not in her handwriting, and Fred and George may have figured out something was going on if she had given them a list in someone else's writing.).

The twins whistled in awe at her preparation. "Wow," commented Fred. "What did he do to you?"

Hermione thought fast. "He… er… He got a better grade than me in Charms!" The twins looked incredulous. "I couldn't believe it either! I guess it's because I've spent so much time tutoring Draco that I haven't quite had time to work on my other classes." The twins nodded in understanding and Hermione heaved a silent sigh of relief.

"How much did he beat you by?" asked George.

"Er… three points."

"Lucky for him he didn't beat you by more. If your revenge is this planned out for three points, I'd hate to think of what you'd do to him if he'd beaten you by ten."

"And for the record, if he ever does beat you by that much, we are absolutely _not_ available for cut-rate castrations or anything of the sort," Fred said, grinning. "Now, if you wanted us to, say, steal all his underwear and replace it with lacy black thongs or something, that's do-able."

Hermione laughed. "Let's save that one for next time, if there is a next time."

"Right then. So when are we to do this?"

"The beginning of Chrimbo hols. I know you're all just spending the hols here, because Ron told me. And this is perfect, because we can fit it right into the plan. You can pull the prank when practically no one else is around."

"Why pull a prank when no one's around?"

"Because I'm paying you?" Hermione suggested. The twins laughed. "Seriously, though, I don't want to embarrass him _too_ much."

"All right. Chrimbo it is."

"Excellent." Hermione grinned deviously.

It was all she could do the next day in Potions not to pull Draco aside and tell him the great news. Granted, she was 'tutoring' him now, so it wouldn't have been _too_ out of place to speak with him, but they had never before approached each other in class, and were, in fact, still pretending to hate each other passionately, so she forced herself to wait. Once, when no one was looking, she dared to take a furtive glance. He happened to look at her at that moment, and slowly raised an eyebrow at her, questioning. Hermione winked as slowly and discreetly as she could, and Draco fought to keep the grin off his face. After class, they both tried to linger after their friends left to have a couple words, but Crabbe and Goyle were too dense to take Draco's hints to leave, and if he told them outright to go, it was bound to make them (and others) curious.

The day dragged on, but finally, it was time for their daily tutoring session. They both fairly ran to the library. "Well?" Draco asked in hushed tones, breathless from his frantic run to the library.

Hermione grinned. "They're in! They _loved_ the idea!"

"Great! And I've found out for sure that er, the _bait_ will be here, at least for the first part of hols. I overheard someone ask him about his plans for Christmas. Turns out his parents have to work for the first few days of the hols, so he's going to stay here and they'll pick him up when they're free."

"Excellent. But how are we going to get 'the bait' to him?"

He grinned smugly, pleased with himself for having taken care of such details. "I've got that covered as well."

"How?"

"If I tell you, you'll be able to guess who the bait is."

"Why can't I know?" she asked a bit petulantly.

"You might object to my choice of bait."

"I would not. It only makes sense for you to choose. It'd be too difficult to trap him with a girl. People might notice a girl in the boys' dorms. And since you're the one who insists he's gay, you should have the right to choose your… weapon, if you will."

"Weapon?" a deep voice drawled behind them. "You wouldn't be plannin' an unsupervised duel, would you?"

Hermione and Draco's eyes grew impossibly wide, and Draco reddened slightly. "Um, er, hi Oliver! We were— that is— erm— I have to go to the bathroom!!!!!!" Hermione blurted, anxious to avoid explaining what they were talking about. She rushed out of the library, leaving her books behind. Oliver stared after her.

"What the hell was that about?" Oliver asked.

Draco was tempted to also run for the bathroom, but he stayed put and put on his most convincing face. "Probably women's troubles or something. She's been pretty weird lately."

"I see. And why _have_ you two been spending so much time together? Somebody got a crush on Hermione?"

"Unless you're referring to Weasley, no. Granger's …tutoring me," he admitted grudgingly.

Oliver nodded. "Makes sense. She _is_ fairly brilliant. Very wise of you to seek a Gryffindor for help. Goin' to ask Potter for any pointers on snitch-catching?"

"Go to hell."

Oliver smirked. "See you there!" Oliver walked away cheerfully, grinning broadly at Draco.

Draco glared at him as he walked away. "Just you wait, you smug bastard. You're going to play right into my hands."

Five minutes later, Hermione returned, checking for Oliver's presence before heading back to Draco. "Sorry to dash out on you like that, but I'm no good at lying! I couldn't have come up with a convincing story! …I do hope you could handle him," she said apologetically.

"Oh, no problem. I told him you were having your monthlies and then cordially invited him to go to hell."

"Draco!"

"What? I was _cordial_!"

Hermione opened her mouth to reproach him, but couldn't be properly stern, since she was trying not to laugh. She chuckled. "Who would have ever thought you'd have a sense of humor?"

"Who ever would have thought we wouldn't have killed each other by now?" he replied dryly. She laughed again. "So do we have an exact date for the plan?" he asked.

"Twenty-second. Most everyone leaves the morning of the twenty-first. Will that work for our mystery man?"

"Sure. He's not due to leave until late on the twenty-third. Do we have everything we need for our spells?"

Hermione nodded. "I have a looking glass with the appropriate charms already placed on it. And I've managed to get hold of an invisibility cloak for that day." To herself, she thought, 'Of course, I had to tell Harry I wanted to sneak into your room and switch all your knickers with frilly thongs in order to get it… And then of course he wanted to help… luckily I convinced him that under no circumstances would I allow him to see my unmentionables. Of course, I don't actually _own_ any thongs, but Harry will never have to know that…'

"Really?" Draco asked, interested. "How'd you manage that?"

"Um… I'd prefer not to reveal my sources."

Draco shrugged. "Your call. That's fine with me."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "I almost forgot! I promised the twins I'd pay them for their help. …And of course, their silence as well."

Draco nodded, reaching in his pocket for some coins. "How much do you need?"

"Ten Sickles apiece. I've got enough spare to pay one of them, but do you think you could pay the other?"

Draco pulled a handful of Galleons from his pocket. He flushed, embarrassed at doing something kind to the Weasleys. "Give them those. I don't need it."

"Draco…" Hermione whispered, awed by his generosity.

Draco shrugged uncomfortably. "I've got more money than I can squander in a lifetime. Might as well go to someone who needs it…"

"That's so sweet, Draco." He turned red and looked away. "…But they'll never accept this much from me. I didn't tell them you were part of it, and they'll wonder where I got so much money. They'd insist on giving it back to me."

"You Gryffindors and your damned big hearts," he said kindly, but with an edge of frustration. "Can't you leave the money in their shoes at night or something? Or better yet, tell them you borrowed the money from Potter. They'll get a kick out of him paying for his own pranking."

"Brilliant!" Hermione beamed at him and took the money from his hands, scooping it into her cloak's inner pocket. "That's simply _brilliant_, Draco!" He shifted uncomfortably. Hermione smiled. "I can't believe it. You're actually… pretty decent, deep down."

"Yeah, well, let's just keep that our little secret, hmm? Can't have you ruining my reputation as a heartless bastard."

Hermione laughed. "As if anyone would believe it anyway." Draco chuckled at this, and his blush faded.

Meanwhile, across the library, someone was watching Hermione and Draco. Someone who didn't like their friendliness one little bit. "Something's wrong with this. They… they can't _like_ each other! It's _Malfoy_, for God's sake! She's _got_ to have better taste than that!" the watcher muttered to himself. "But… they really do seem to be getting on nicely." He sighed, and sneaked out of the library. It wouldn't do to have Draco and Hermione see him there, staring at them. "I've got to do something about this. He's got to be using her to find out some dirt on Harry or something. Malfoy never laughs at anything except Gryffindors or muggles. He's faking being sweet and kind and then he's going to hurt her. Damn it Hermione, you're supposed to be the _smart_ one!"

When Hermione entered the Gryffindor common room later that day, she was immediately ambushed by Ron. "Hermione!" he exclaimed as he pulled her aside to speak with her.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" she asked worriedly.

Ron shook his head. "No, not really, but… something's been bothering me. A lot." Hermione tilted her head at him, a questioning look on her face. "Well, you've been spending a lot of time with Malfoy lately."

"Ron, I'm _tutoring_ him! How am I supposed to teach him if I don't spend time with him?"

"It doesn't seem like you're tutoring him very much. It seems more like you've traded in your friends for a new one. Malfoy version two-point-oh is much better than the Weasley beta version, right?"

"Ron— " Hermione broke off, not knowing how to continue.

Ron walked away, not caring to hear the rest of whatever she might have to say.

"I'd never trade you in… You and Harry are my best friends…" she whispered to his back.


	3. Chapter 3

Just to note: I know I'm portraying Wood as more fanon than canon but just go with it.**  
**

**Unauthorized Surveillance**

**Chapter 3 **

Ron ignored Hermione for the rest of the week. Harry, distracted by Quidditch practice (and of course, thwarting evil on the side), never noticed. Hermione was dejected, and constantly tried to talk to Ron, but eventually she decided to forget about it. It took too much effort to continually reach out to someone who refused to meet her halfway.

Hermione threw herself into her schoolwork, trying to distract herself from the disappointment her social life had become. Her best friends were a) busy, or b) ignoring her, so it was pointless to try to hang out with them. And she could only meet with Draco in the library and pretend to study. They couldn't do friend things together, because people would get suspicious (not that Ron wasn't anyway).

After dinner the next Monday, Harry had Quidditch practice and Hermione was avoiding Ron. Thus, Ron was heading to the dorms by himself. "Weasley." Draco's voice echoed down the hallway. As Ron was alone at the moment, he was rather apprehensive. He turned. Draco was alone too, to Ron's surprise. He'd been figuring on an ambush.

"What the hell do _you_ want?" Ron asked rudely.

Draco sneered at him. "What'd you do to Granger?"

"What? I didn't do anything!"

"Then why's she acting like you ripped her heart out and spat in her chest cavity?"

"What?"

"_Somebody's_ got under her skin. Someone she considers a friend. She's not the type to mope for a week because some random jerk said something stupid. But you, Weasley, aren't just some random jerk. You're her friend."

"Why the hell do you care?"

"Why _don't_ you?" Draco shot back. Ron glared at Draco, but he was speechless. "Weasley, I'm not blind or stupid. You like her. And you think I'm a threat, since she's spending so much time with me now. But maybe you wouldn't feel so threatened if you had some balls and talked to her, instead of treating her like shit for wanting to spend time with someone else." Draco turned and walked away. Ron stood there, staring after him.

The next morning, Ron stopped Hermione on the way to breakfast. "I'm sorry I was such an ass, Hermione."

She nodded. "I know. It's okay. I know it's just because you can't stand him."

"Yeah. …But he's not such a disagreeable little ferret all the time. After all, you seem to find him tolerable, and we all know you have great taste in friends."

Hermione chuckled. "The best, undoubtedly." They smiled at each other and headed to breakfast, where they sat next to each other, and for the first time in a week, _conversed_. At one point when Ron and Harry started talking about something or other (Hermione wasn't really paying attention), Hermione caught Draco's eye and gave him a funny look. He winked at her and she grinned, mouthing "You old softy," at him. He raised a finger to his lips, as if to shush her. She winked in return, and finished her breakfast.

Draco and Hermione stopped having tutoring sessions as often. They decided they should spend more time with their other friends, and besides, Draco had to practice Quidditch. Hermione and Draco didn't have another 'tutoring session' until December twentieth. They finalized their plans, nearly breathless with excitement, waiting for the day of truth to arrive.

They scribbled notes to each other, using abbreviations and omitting details as often as possible, in case someone should peer over their shoulders. They could just claim it was some archaic potion recipe they were deciphering if anyone saw their paper. They agreed on a meeting place (behind a certain statue in an underused second-floor hallway) and a certain time (right after lunch – Harry always liked to have a little siesta when he had a bit of time, so he'd be in his room. This time had the added advantage that no one would notice that Harry wasn't around until dinnertime, and the matter would certainly have been settled by then. Either that, or the people on the floor beneath Harry's room would wonder why the ceiling was dripping, and either way, their little venture into unauthorized surveillance would be brought to an end). Hermione would bring the cloak and the mirror. Draco would perform silence spells on the area so no one would hear them and alert spells besides, in case someone came near.

_Just to be doubly sure we don't get caught_, Draco explained in quick scribbles. _I mean, they can't see or hear us, sure, but they could very well walk right into us. Not that I think anyone will be nosing around the statue, but…_

_It's a fantastic idea. Mrs. Norris can see through the cloak, so we'll need to know if she's around_, Hermione wrote back in her tidy script.

_That damn cat. Like to give the thing a nice boot into a closet and lock it in there._

Hermione chuckled. _Filch would kill you._

Draco snorted. _I swear the only reason he's so possessive of the damn thing is 'cause it's the only pussy he's ever touched._

Hermione made a face, but still snickered._ That's terrible!_ she wrote, not really meaning it.

"Writin' love notes, are we?" a Scottish voice drawled into their ears. Hermione squeaked. Draco hid the paper inside his robe's inner pocket. "I seem to have quite the knack for botherin' you two, don't I?" Wood asked, amused.

"Congratulations," Draco replied dryly. "But don't you have something better to do? Why don't you go ride your broomstick some more? From what I've heard, you really enjoy riding sticks."

Hermione stopped breathing. 'Did he just say what I think he said? Oh dear Lord.'

Oliver was a bit taken aback at first, but then laughed. "Nice stinger. Plannin' to be a movie critic when you hit puberty?"

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione clapped a hand over his mouth. "Can you two save the verbal abuse for the Quidditch field? We've got studying to do."

"The day before hols?" Wood asked incredulously.

"Extra credit," Hermione explained.

Wood shrugged and shot them a grin. "You're crazy," he said, walking away.

Hermione took her hand from Draco's mouth. "I can't believe you _said_ that!" she hissed.

"Oh come on. No straight man likes a stick between his legs as much as Wood does."

Hermione was struck speechless as she finally pieced it all together. "He's the bait," she said monotonously.

Draco smirked. "Yup. Gryffindor boy, handsome, more than likely gay… Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out before."

Hermione watched Oliver disappear through the library doors. She thought about how dreadfully fit he must be under those robes, how devastatingly handsome his smile was, and how unnaturally erotic his accent was. "I'm going to lose," she said blankly.

"Big time," Draco replied, grinning.

Two days later, Hermione borrowed the cloak from Harry after lunch. She waited in the Gryffindor common room while he went to his room to fetch the cloak. They were the only Gryffindors in the room. Fred and George were rigging mild explosives to a toilet. ("We forgot to get Ginny a present, and we figured 'better late than never,'" explained George to a curious Ron, who nodded and quickly left the loo for fear of being exploded himself).

Harry rummaged around in his drawers, finally locating the cloak, buried under some hideous but lovingly made sweaters from Mrs. Weasley. He smiled, remembering how wonderful it had been to open that first Christmas present from her and find a sweater just like her own children's. He had finally felt like part of a real family, and what more appropriate place to keep his father's cloak than with the clothes of his honorary family? Grabbing the cloak, Harry rushed downstairs to give it to Hermione, who had insisted all along that time was of the essence.

She was utterly grateful and immediately slipped it on, rushing to her room to fetch her enchanted mirror. She grabbed it quickly and hurried out of the Gryffindor rooms, knowing that she only had a small window of time to get out before the twins started working the sealing spells. She didn't want to be too near, just in case the spell was cast wrong and she was also trapped in the Gryffindor rooms. She opened the door and slipped out, barely shutting the door behind her before Fred and George were almost upon her. She ducked out of the way and scurried down the steps, glancing back to watch them cast the spells.

Fred did a temporary transparency spell to peer inside. When they had made sure that only Harry was around, Fred entered. George stayed behind, waiting for his cue. Fred sauntered in, calling out to Harry, "Hey Harry, have you seen George anywhere?"

"No, I haven't. You two aren't off causing mischief?" Harry asked wryly.

Fred grinned cheekily. "He'd better not be without me! Do you know if he's in the dorms?"

"No, there's no one here but us."

At that, George made Harry's dresser tip over. Hearing the loud thud from upstairs, Harry and Fred rushed to check.

"You sure about that?" asked Fred, feigning nervousness. They both drew their wands and headed up the stairs.

"Oy, Fred!" George called after them, walking into the room. Both boys turned to look at George and pocketed their wands, realizing it was only George down there. While Harry was looking at George, Fred discreetly pilfered Harry's wand and slipped a harmless dowel rod into Harry's pocket in its place. He then winked at George, who discretely nodded. "Fred, I need your help. I can't dismantle the toilet alone."

"Right, right," Fred agreed. He reverted back to his usual easygoing self. "Harry, you go on ahead. It was probably Ron being clumsy. He's been avoiding George and me all day. Afraid we'll get him into trouble or something. He's probably up there hiding from us."

Harry looked doubtful, but nodded. "He may have gotten up there without me noticing. I'll go tell him you'll leave him alone."

"Thanks Harry," the twins chorused, racing for the door as Harry climbed the stairs. Harry entered his room and looked around. The room seemed quite empty.

"Ron?" he called. "Fred and George said they'd leave you alone today." Harry peered into corners, looking for his friend. With a sudden bang, the door flew shut behind him. Harry turned and raced for the door, but it was already shut and wouldn't budge. "Alohamora!" he cried, waving his dowel rod. Nothing happened. He looked at what he was holding. "FRED!!!!!" he yelled. "Give me back my wand and unlock my door!" There was no answer. Or rather, there was an answer, but not a verbal one. In response to Harry's cries, the water pipe in his ceiling had proceeded to spring a rather large and forceful leak.

"Aaaack!" Harry yelped in surprise, moving out of the water spray. The water suddenly stopped. Harry stood, puzzled and dripping, then tried the door again. The downpour started anew. Harry dashed away from the door and dove onto his bed. The downpour became a trickle, but didn't stop this time. Harry wiped the moisture from his glasses on his bedspread and put them back on. Harry pulled the bedspread off his bed and threw it atop the posters to form a sort of makeshift tent. It would certainly help block the rain.

Fred and George congratulated each other on a job well done and headed out of the common room into the stairways. Once out there, George did a quick charm to block entrance to the rooms for three hours. It was, of course, one of the spells Hermione had given them, and was not in fact the complete spell. The complete spell blocked all entrance to the Gryffindor rooms. Hermione's edited version, however, allowed _one specific person_ to enter. And that one person, of course, was Oliver Wood.


	4. Chapter 4

Because I wrote this for a friend, there are some inside jokes throughout, so if something seemed strange, that's probably why. I tried to make sure that it would still be enjoyable even if you didn't get the jokes. If you want me to explain something about it, just ask. Anyway, here's the last bit. Enjoy!**  
**

**Unauthorized Surveillance**

**Chapter 4**

Phase two of the plan was to get Oliver in there as well. Draco and Hermione were at this time hiding under the invisibility cloak, watching the mirror and waiting. They saw, through the mirror, Harry make his tent, and knew the twins would be gone. Draco got out of the cloak and headed for the Gryffindor locker room. He was certain Wood would be gearing up for some practice, which, of course, played right into Draco's hands. Draco rushed to the Gryffindor locker room, where Wood was just emerging, ready to head onto the field and practice some flight maneuvers.

"Wood," Draco called. "Where's Potter?"

Oliver shrugged. "I don't know. Why? Finally decided to beg for some snitch-catching tips?"

Draco bit back a sharp reply. "Actually, I was hoping for a casual game of Quidditch. I know you've only got yourself, Potter, and the Weasleys, but I've only got Flint and myself. We could run some drills, have a half-court scrimmage game or something. That is, if you're up to it," he said with a sneer.

"Malfoy, we can take anything you've got."

"Then go get Potter. I'll see you on the field." Draco turned sharply and left, heading towards the Slytherin locker room. Once in there, he hid for a moment, waiting for Oliver to pass far enough ahead that he could head back to Hermione and the mirror. He rushed back to her and ducked under the cloak in time to watch Oliver enter the Gryffindor common room.

"Potter! Harry! You in here?" Oliver called.

"Oliver!" Harry called, rushing to his door and pounding on it, heedless of the torrential downpour his actions caused. "I'm up here!"

Oliver climbed the stairs, following Harry's voice. "What are you doing up there, Harry?"

Harry tried to reply, but the water pipe became fiercer than ever, and the water streams began crushing him against the door and choking him. He pushed himself away from the door with all the strength he could muster, and still the water pounded him. "Help me!" he managed to yelp.

Oliver burst into the room and saw through the onslaught of water that Harry was being pounded into the floor and gasping for air. He rushed to Harry's side, and the door slammed shut behind him. The downpour continued. Oliver sat Harry up so he could breathe properly again.

"Thanks," Harry sputtered out, "but I think you're trapped in here too now."

"What?!"

"The door won't open. And I don't have my wand."

"Well I've got mine." Oliver strode to the door, bracing himself against the water. "Alohamora!" he cried out, desperate to spit out the words before the water could choke him. It didn't work. "Damn it!" Oliver cursed.

Harry coughed. "It looks like we're stuck here until someone notices we're missing or Fred decides to give me my wand back."

"Fred _Weasley_?" Oliver asked incredulously.

Harry nodded, and tried to wring out his sopping robe. It was no use. The flood increased exponentially. The downpour made it hard to see, but Harry found his bed and climbed into it. "Over here, Oliver. The sheet over the posters will keep us dry. …kind of," he added, as some water dripped through the bedspread.

Oliver climbed onto Harry's bed with him and promptly started kicking off his shoes. Harry looked at him strangely. "What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"My clothes are wet. If I leave 'em all on, I'll be soaked, but if I take some of 'em off, I can try to dry 'em out."

"Oh." Harry nodded and removed his own shoes and robe. His clothes underneath were drenched through, but he left them on, feeling self-conscious. Oliver, on the other hand, had no qualms about taking off his clothes to dry off. He removed a sopping sweater to reveal a white T-shirt soaking wet and clinging to every inch of skin. Oliver peeled that off as well. Harry did his best to avert his eyes.

Then, Oliver started taking off his pants. "What are you _DOING_?" yelped Harry.

Oliver looked at him strangely and slowly replied, "I'm taking off my pants."

"Well, I can see that, but, --"

"My pants are soaked too. What's the big deal, Harry? You've seen me change for Quidditch. And boxers are no worse than being in a bathing suit." Harry shrugged and nodded, though he still looked uncomfortable. Oliver, oblivious to Harry's discomfort, took off his pants. He then reached for Harry's sleeve and tugged on it to help Harry get out of the wet garment. Harry jerked away.

"What are you doing?!" Harry asked yet again.

"Your clothes are soaked too, Harry," Oliver pointed out gently.

Harry smiled uncomfortably. "Yeah…"

"What's the matter, Harry? …Afraid I won't be able to resist you with your sweater off?" he asked teasingly. Harry turned crimson. Oliver chuckled, "Don't tell me I guessed it on the first try…" Harry stammered, but never managed to form a coherent sentence. Oliver held up a hand to silence him. "Don't worry, Harry. I don't hit on straight boys."

Harry was speechless, as was Hermione, watching in the mirror. Draco however, crowed triumphantly, "I _knew_ it!" Hermione shushed him needlessly, since the area was protected by silence spells. "I _knew_ it," he repeated, whispering.

"Don't get too excited, Draco. The bet's about _Harry_, not Oliver."

"Yeah, but are you going to tell me that if you were Potter, you could resist _that_ all soaking wet and half-naked in your bed?" he asked, pointing at the Oliver shown in the mirror. True to Draco's words, Oliver was wearing only blue plaid boxers that clung appetizingly to his lower body. The rest of him was gloriously naked and covered in tiny droplets of water. Hermione didn't trust herself to answer. "Exactly," said Draco. "This one's in the bag. Draco one, Hermione zero."

"Shut up and watch."

Back in the bedroom, Harry regained power over his voice. "Pardon?" he squeaked out.

"What? You didn't hear the rumors? It's all Flint's talked about for damn near three years. 'Course, it's just a lucky guess. I'd _never_ hit on anything that looked like a snaggle-toothed troll." Harry chortled. Oliver grinned. "But seriously, Harry, are you uncomfortable around me now? You don't have to be. I mean, contrary to popular belief, gay men do _not_ hit on everything with a penis. I can 'keep it in my pants,' as it were."

"It's okay," said Harry slowly. "I mean, this isn't the most _ideal_ way to find out someone's gay…"

"Well, it could be worse. You could have walked in on me."

Harry was stunned. "You have a boyfriend here?"

Oliver stretched and grinned. "Nah. Don't have one at all, actually. Most teenage boys are either violently homophobic, don't care who's gay or not in the first place, or are too smart to come out while still in school. I," he paused for emphasis, "am dumb. In that regard at least. There's a hell of a lot less stigma in the real world."

"Did you _ever_ have a boyfriend?"

"Nah. Made out with a guy once at a party over hols. But he wasn't my boyfriend or anything. He was just exceptionally drunk. …And I was a little less than sober… But anyway, that's the extent of my experiences."

"What about girls?"

Oliver made a face. "Girls are icky," he said, then grinned. "Actually, I've just never really been interested in 'em. Nothin' wrong with 'em or anything, just… not for me." Oliver glanced over at Harry. "So are you okay with this, Harry? Or are you still creeped out?"

"I wasn't creeped out!" he protested. "I was just surprised."

"Good or bad?"

"What?"

"The surprise. Was it a good surprise or a bad one?"

"Oh… Um… Good, I guess," Harry whispered, almost as if he knew someone (or two someones, for that matter) was listening.

Draco started to make victorious noises, but Hermione elbowed him gently and peered more intently into the mirror. Draco shoved her to the side so he could see too.

"So?"

"Um…" Harry blushed. He ran his hand through his messy hair nervously. Oliver caught his hand and used it to pull Harry closer. Oliver used his other hand to tilt Harry's chin up. Harry bit his lip nervously.

"Harry," Oliver whispered.

"Yes…" Harry replied, half asking a question, half-submitting to whatever Oliver might wish.

"Don't bite your lip. You might hurt it." Oliver leaned in and Harry's lips became too busy to be bitten. Oliver released Harry's hand. Harry gingerly put it on Oliver's shoulder. He moved his other arm around to mirror it. Oliver placed a hand on the small of Harry's back and used his other hand to keep Harry's face next to his. Oliver ran the tip of his tongue along Harry's lower lip. Harry let out a small gasp, opening his mouth. Oliver nibbled on Harry's bottom lip. Harry moaned and parted his lips further. Oliver smiled to himself, loving Harry's reactions.

Harry's grip on Oliver's shoulders was no longer tentative. He wrapped his arms around the older boy, pulling him as close as he could. Oliver tightened his own grip in return and slid his tongue inside Harry's mouth, caressing Harry's tongue with his own. After a minute or two of Oliver's ministrations, Harry started to lean back against his pillows, but Oliver stopped him. When Harry looked at him questioningly, Oliver grinned.

"You're still wearin' all your wet clothes, Harry," Oliver whispered breathlessly.

"Oh. Right," Harry answered, grinning wryly. Oliver tugged at his sweater sleeves, and Harry was all too quick to help him remove the sweater. It was quickly and unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. Before the garment hit the ground, they were already wrapped in each other's arms again and kissing as if it were a life or death matter.

Harry leaned back on the bed, Oliver following to lay on top of him. Harry ran his hands over Oliver's back, feeling the muscles ripple with each movement the other boy made. Oliver, too, was doing his fair share of roaming, sliding his hands along Harry's sides, tracing his abdominal muscles, even gently toying with his nipples, hard from the soak in cold water and following exposure to the air. Harry moaned and whimpered. Oliver nibbled on his earlobes and gently sucked on his neck, leaving several barely visible hickeys.

The pipes had long-since stopped spurting water, but neither boy noticed, or if they did, they were beyond caring.

Draco and Hermione stared transfixed at the mirror. "This is wrong," said Hermione, unblinking. "We shouldn't watch this."

"Yeah. We're going to hell for sure," said Draco, staring.

Hermione managed to somehow snap herself out of her trance. "That's enough!" she said, swishing her wand over the mirror. "Incantatum finito!" she said hurriedly, before they could be tempted to look again.

"Oh Hermione, you ruin all my fun," Draco pouted, half-joking.

Hermione chuckled. "Well, I'd say you won."

"Yup."

"Got your assignment list?"

Draco grinned. "Yeah. But don't worry about it. I can do my own work. But," he added with a nudge, "I may need a tutor now and then."

Hermione grinned back. "Sure thing. But… Well, we're not going to be friends anymore, are we?"

"Nope," Draco agreed, shaking his head sadly.

Hermione smiled. "You hate me, don't you?" she said jokingly.

"Like leprosy," he agreed, smiling.

"Just so we're clear." She grinned broadly. They threw off the cloak and Hermione folded it up while Draco finished off the silence spells. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I've got some Weasleys to pay."

Draco smiled and nodded. "See you in Potions."

"Not if I see you first," Hermione laughed. They headed their separate ways and did their best never to be together again. But sometimes, they would catch each others' eyes across a room, and someone's eyes would flicker to Harry or Oliver, or both, and they would smile a secret smile at each other.

Harry and Oliver had a few secret smiles of their own as well. They never progressed past kissing that fateful day in Harry's room, but their secret relationship grew stronger each day, and their secret trysts grew more common. Of course, no one but Hermione and Draco suspected anything. After all, Harry and Oliver were absolute Quidditch _freaks_. It only made sense for them to spend hour after hour practicing and planning new moves. And then, of course, they were all sweaty after practice and had to clean up.

But that is another story, and best saved for another day.


End file.
